


FNAF SWAP: Truth and Lies

by LozFanXV



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Drama, F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Role Reversal, let's have the boys needing to be rescued, screw the girls being the damsels, unlike the game series, will try to explain everything in this au, william is not a bastard here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozFanXV/pseuds/LozFanXV
Summary: It’s been years since Elizabeth moved away from Hurricane following the tragic deaths of her brothers to a monster. Now residing in England, she deals with loneliness and nightmares. After someone impersonates her father through a letter, Ellie takes things into her own hands and returns back to Hurricane, where she reunites with Charlie.Charlie had gone through a lot. After the bite of 83 took her twin brother Sammy away and then her mother went missing at Circus Baby’s, she finds her father always gone on business trips. So when her best friend’s little sister returns back to Hurricane, Charlie takes it upon herself to look out for her. Maybe as a way to make up for not looking out for her best friend that fateful night, or maybe to chase away to loneliness that has plagued her for years.But what started out as a way to move on from their childhoods has turned into a fight to find the truth within all the lies. As they race to uncover the deep web of secrets that spans not only their lives but also their families, both Ellie and Charlie discover that some things are best left unknown.
Relationships: Elizabeth Afton/Charlotte "Charlie" Emily
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Meanwhile in England

_The floors are cold on her bare feet, yet Elizabeth continues forward. Recoiling from the blood puddles on the hardwood. Lightning from outside lights up the hallway. Showing that not only is there blood all over the floors, but the walls have bloody handprints on them. She shivers. Her feet scamper from one particularly large blood stain. One that streaks as if the person's body was dragged._

_She doesn’t know what compels her to keep going, maybe it’s the fact that she’s once again nine years old. Or that she’s going down the stairs of her old childhood home in America. Or maybe it’s the blood._ _She reaches the bottom of the steps, her cold feet warming on the carpet. Though she hasn’t stepped foot in the house in years, she still remembers the route to the living room._

_Entering, Elizabeth creeps around the plaid sofa of her childhood. Tiptoeing as if afraid there’s someone else in the home. She makes it past the couch. But the sight in the middle of the room makes her wish she never did._

_The first thing she notices is the blood that pools on the carpet. She remembers the carpet being so thick as a kid though._ _The second thing she realizes is the bodies in a pile that are making the blood._

_Two boys, both of whom she remembers. She wants to vomit, and yet her legs move forward towards the bodies even as her head screams to stop._

_One of the bodies is smaller, with a golden Fredbear still in hand. Johnny, her baby brother. He went missing that fateful day at Fredbear’s Diner on his sixth birthday. Along with four of his friends. The little plush bear is soaking up the blood pooling underneath it. Johnny’s blood._

_They never found that bear either now that she thinks about it._

_And that leaves the other body, her oldest brother, Michael. He - along with Johnny - went missing at Fredbear’s Diner one rainy night. Except that his body did show up. A week later. Dumped in the alleyway at the brick wall that made up the diner, as if he was trash. Afterwards, everyone agreed that the other missing children at the time must be dead._

_Their bodies are drenched in blood. Michael’s laid over Johnny’s as if to shield him from whoever killed them. They're eyes are open, matching expressions of_ _shock and terror on their faces._

_She wants to throw up. Or to run back into her old bedroom and hide under the covers like the child she is again. But instead can do nothing but cry, the tears falling down her face cooling her warm cheeks. The lump in her throat makes it difficult for her to breathe._ _She’s rooted to the spot, her legs refusing to move. And then she hears it. The sound of heavy breathing behind her. Her heart stops beating. Elizabeth still cannot turn around, no matter how much she screams at her body to do so._

_The deep thumps of footsteps come up to her. And still her teary eyes don’t move from the bodies of the two who she loved and lost. A heavy hand clamps down onto her right shoulder._

She shoots up from her pillow with a shriek, panting as tears continue to fall. For a second Ellie wonders where her pink walls and cute posters are. Instead, she finds white walls and a dresser. With some picture frame and other trinkets she obtained growing up. Realizing where she is, Ellie sighs and lays back down on her bed. She’s no longer a nine year old in Hurricane, Washington wondering when her brothers are coming home. Now she’s eighteen and living in Birmingham, England.

She takes some deep breaths, trying to calm down her still thumping heart. The relief that it was a nightmare is only helping. But soon the beating returns to normal, and she no longer has to do a breathing exercise to calm herself. Ellie groans, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She gets up from her bed, grumbling that she has to be up at six in the morning. Not that she can help it, after a nightmare like that she won’t be going back to sleep. She wrinkles her nose as she stands. Covered in sweat and tears, having a shower right now sounds heavenly.

Leaving her bedroom, the empty semi-detached house coldly greets her. She’s been living here with her aunt Helen since she was a child. But ever since she passed away two months ago it no longer welcomed her like a home should. It was lonely without Aunt Helen to talk to. Okay, a shower, get ready, and then look around for a new job. At the moment Ellie is relying on her aunt’s inheritance money, but she’d rather not use that up.

She enters the bathroom, peeling off her damp pajamas. Ellie takes care of the essentials, washing her tangled hair and scrubs her sweaty skin. It was a much needed thirty minutes after that recurring nightmare returned. She hasn’t had that nightmare in years. The last time was when she was fifteen and she got the news that her father went missing. That nightmare persisted for a month. Ellie doesn’t know why it’s returning, but it cannot be good.

Stepping out from the shower, she sets out to get ready for the day. She dries herself off. Blow dries and then brushes her hair before pulling it into a ponytail with a red scrunchie. And puts on some makeup.

She leaves the bathroom in nothing but her towel and heads back to her room to grab clothes from the dresser. Getting dressed in her favorite outfit. A floral red spaghetti dress over a white shirt and black tights underneath. Ellie spares herself one more glance in the mirror. Thanks to the makeup it’s pretty hard to tell she got up super early and is running on five hours of sleep. She takes a deep breath. Hopeful that she’ll find even a simple part-time job today.

\--------------

Ellie slams the front door shut behind her, picking up the posts from the floor that the postman slipped through the slot in the door. She’ll sort through them once she makes her cup of tea.

She already knows that all she'll find is going to be spam. She still checks them of course, the last thing Ellie needs is a surprise notice because she threw away an important letter. Making her favorite tea, Ellie sorts through the posts while waiting for the water to boil.

Spam spam spam spam - wait this isn’t spam. The envelope actually has a few stamps on it. An international letter, and not from a country close by. She reads the sender’s address, and her heart drops.

_851 Hilltop Ave_

_Hurricane, Washington 98826_

That’s… the address from her family home. Could it be? No, her father is missing, and her brothers are dead. And there’s no way in hell her mother - who walked out on her once they came to England - would move back into the house and contact her. So it can’t be anyone. Unless… is her father still alive?

She rips open the letter, the boiling water forgotten. If there’s any chance that she’s not the last of her family left, Ellie’s going to take it. Inside is a single paper with the front page written halfway. Nine years and she doesn’t even get a full page?

The handwriting was average all around. The words weren’t overly big or small, and didn’t even slant in either direction. She starts to read.

_Dear Elizabeth,_

_If you are reading this, then that means I’m gone. I wish I could tell you what has happened to me, but circumstances forbid that. There are so many things I want to tell you. About you, about your brothers, about everything that has happened. But I know that if I do then it’ll defeat the purpose of my words._

_I beg of you to not come here. Even if you hear some unsavory rumors about me. Even if they discover Johnny’s body, do not return. The town is still not safe. Whoever stole your two brothers from us is still out here. It would break my heart to lose my last child to him._

_I know you have so many questions. You were always so curious about the world, and my words aren’t enough. I beg of you, leave this all behind. Your brothers are at rest, and I will be too. I love you, please stay safe princess._

_Your Father,_

_William_

She stares down at the letter. Flipping it front and back to see if there’s any more writing. Nothing, that was it. All these years, and all her father has for an explanation for never talking to her again and for apparently going missing... is to ignore it and forget about it?

The shrill ringing of the boiling water in the kettle interrupts Ellie’s thoughts. She rushes to finish making her tea, now needing it more than ever. By the time the tea is ready it's pouring rain outside. Which gives her some much needed white noise as she stares down at the letter with a mug in hand. Aunt Helen’s floral print couch crinkles beneath her.

A million thoughts race in her head, yet none stick. She takes a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. Her mind calmed, she now tries to get her thoughts together.

Ellie’s father is alive, okay even. But that raises the question. Why? He could send her a simple letter telling her to not come to Hurricane. But can’t explain what happened to him when he went missing? Or even give her a simple reason for why he didn’t speak with her for nine years? None of this makes sense. And most crucial of all, the letter failed spectacularly. Now she can’t help but think about the town from her childhood. Ellie was willing to put her nightmare behind her, but she gets this letter the same day?

There’s only one explanation. This letter wasn’t written by her father. The facts don’t line up if it was indeed written by him. Meaning someone pretended to be him to convince her of something. That makes her want to hit this person. How dare whoever this is pretend to be her parent, and even worse bring up her brothers!

Letter be damned, if this person didn’t want her coming to the town, they shouldn’t have contacted her.

“Bloody hell…” She mutters. Huffing, she gets up from the couch, to the end table with the home phone front and center. Ellie opens the drawer, and grabs the yellow pages phone book inside. She flips through the pages, the handset of the phone cradled between her head and shoulder.

She needs to find a travel agency.

Ellie is going back to Hurricane.


	2. Back to Hurricane, Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie's first day back in Hurricane could go a... little better. But she finally returns to her home, the state of it is something else entirely.

Ellie fights back another yawn as she drives through the dense forest. She wants to be excited, truly, especially with all the trees and sunny sky that she missed. But after a forty hour flight with two stops and one delay, and then to spend the night in a two star motel, she just can’t find it in her to even smile right now.

The rental car, an old volkswagen if she remembers correctly, is getting its job done at the very least. As she fights herself to once again not yawn, a familiar sign made to look like logs comes into view with the words Welcome to Hurricane on it. It only takes another five minutes for her to spot the town she was born and raised in.

The small town of Hurricane, about a thousand people, could be called by many as charming. Surrounded by mountains that are covered in snow five months of the year and forests of mainly pine trees, it’s history of a logging town can be found with the wooden buildings and the historic downtown. Hurricane’s biggest streets are Main and Clare, and once they meet in the middle of the town people would find a beautiful park with a flowing fountain and a statue.

Of course, when people take a look at the history from the past twenty years the charm is ruined.

Driving in town, Ellie is hit with familiarity. The shops and restaurants haven’t changed, the park is still the same as ever with fountain and the statue of an old guy in the middle she still doesn’t know. Driving past her old elementary school, Ellie idly wonders if the old grouchy janitor still works there.

Glancing at the petrol meter, Ellie groans. She has to stop at a petrol station soon, even though every part of her mind is screaming for rest.

Ellie pulls into a station, and goes through the familiar motions of pumping petrol. She walks into the station, both to pay for the petrol and to get a snack. The breakfast bar at the motel wasn’t open that morning, and she doubts that there’s going to be any food at the old home.

Inside the station are only two other people, both of them elderly. There’s a black man browsing the sweet bars, his hair and mustache almost white. Behind the counter is an elderly woman wearing cat eye glasses and a graying bob, she seems to be reading a magazine on the counter.

The elderly woman looks at Ellie briefly, giving her a small smile, and then goes right back to reading her magazine. She doesn’t care, at least she doesn’t have to smile back at her.

Heading to the aisles, she picks up a pack of cosmic brownies and her favorite flavor of slice soda. Ellie walks up to the register, the woman behind the counter moves her magazine to the side as she does, allowing her to place her snack and drink on the register.

Watching her stuff being scanned, Ellie can’t fight back a yawn that escapes her, covering her mouth as she does so, the old man behind her chuckles.

“Didn’t sleep well, young lady?” He says.

Ellie shrugs, watching as he finally picks a candy bar and moves to the magazine rack. But he keeps glancing over at her, and she realizes that the man is trying to initiate small talk with her. She fights back a groan, mentally cursing the culture of the country. She misses when in England people would keep to themselves.

“Had a forty hour flight to get here,” She sighs, fighting to keep another yawn down. “All I wanna do is sleep on a bed.” She says.

Both the counter lady and man give her sympathetic expressions, which at the moment did make her feel better. She knows that most people don’t like being pitied, but she feels like getting some sympathy right now so sue her.

“Aw, I’m sorry about that hun,” She says, finishing bagging up her items. “Where are you from, if it’s not too much to ask.” The old lady says,.

“From England, ma’am,” She says, the manners her parents and aunt have taught her since she started walking coming in full force.

“England, now that’s a beautiful country. What’s a lovely girl like you coming all the way to our small town?” The man asks.

“Oh, I was born here, I left when I was nine. Came back to see if my old home is still here.” And to see if her father is still around, but something tells her to leave that part out.

The woman behind the counter perks up, her eyes now meeting Ellie’s.

“Really? I’ve been living here for thirty years, I knew almost every family here. Who’s your family?” She says in a breathy voice. And the old man looks interested as well, even though he’s still flipping through the magazines.

“That’s interesting ma’am, my family are the Afton’s,” Ellie says, not noticing the way the two other occupants of the store freeze at her blatant confession. She’s too busy digging through her purse trying to find the amount of cash needed.

Getting the amount the register states, Ellie’s eyes finally notices the other two frozen occupants of the room. The lady snatches the cash, placing it in the register and almost throws the bag into her hands. She's startled, the welcoming atmosphere she was starting to enjoy is now gone, replaced by a cold and empty one.

She leaves the petrol station, trying to ignore the glare from the woman and the wide eyes from the old man. The humid warm air of a Washington summer hits her as she opens the glass door. But she welcomes it as she escapes from the unpleasant experience.

Putting the pump back, Ellie opens the door. Throwing her unorthodox breakfast in the passenger seat she sits down behind the steering wheel. Sparing a glance to the petrol station, she can see that the two are now talking to each other, pointing at her every few times.

Unnerved, Ellie maneuvers around the pumps and the one other vehicle parked, making her way to the road. Now away from the petrol station, her shoulders sag and she releases her breath. She has no clue what caused the change in behavior from the other two, all she revealed was her family name.

‘Maybe they recognized the name because two of the Freddy's victims are my brothers?’ She thinks. The woman did say that she was here for the past thirty years, so she was here when the incidents at Freddy’s occurred. The both of them likely felt uncomfortable then.

Still, even with the thought in mind, she didn’t feel comfortable in the town until she got to the outskirts.

It took an agonizing hour for her to find the dirt road that leads to her home. Even when she pulled to the side of the road to check the map, until finally a street sign with Hilltop Ave appears.

The volkswagen slows down on the road and pulls onto the dirt path. Ellie grips the steering wheel tighter as the vehicle shakes and bounces on the dirt road. The hidden potholes and large rocks taking their toll on the rental car.

The first house she passed almost made her stop the car. It’s not her family’s but it was a familiar sight that she remembers. A two story all white house with a small porch and windows to the attic.

The Emily's house, her family used to visit them a lot, when it wasn’t her father and Henry, it was Charlie and Michael being best friends. She remembers not being able to play with them since they were the “big kids” and throwing a fit about it each time.

And then something catches her eyes, one of the blinds on the second floor moves for a split second. It was so quick that Ellie would’ve written it off as nothing if not for the way the blinds are still swaying.

Now more unnerved than when she was at the petrol station, Ellie drives on. She hopes nothing happens at her old home or she’s never going to get sleep that night.

For a minute, she sees nothing but trees. That is until she spots a flash of blue through the trees. Ellie cannot help a gasp once the home she spent the first nine years of her life in comes into view.

It looks exactly like how she remembers it. The house is a simple two story wooden house with a garage. Painted blue because that was her mother’s favorite color. All in all like the Emily house, it also comes with an attic and porch. Ellie parks the rental on the driveway in front of the garage.

She gets out of the volkswagen, the scent of the pine trees surrounding her envelops her as she grabs her suitcase and follows the worn path to the front door. On the walk to the door, she's struck by the strong feeling of nostalgia and sadness. Raking her eyes across the front yard, she’s hit by how… unkempt it was.

When she was younger, her father mowed the lawn every week. Now the grass in the yard is almost to her shins, with many blades bent over from their own weight. Looking closer, she can spy an old silver and blue bicycle now rusting from the years not being suitably cared for. It almost melts into the tall grass. Michael’s bike.

The overgrown yard coupled with the now broken bike has her swallow a lump in her throat. And now she wishes she had someone to lean on right now. Taking a deep breath before she breaks down, Ellie continues on until she’s on the porch.

In front of the door, she pulls out her keyring with only a few keys on it. After receiving her father’s letter, she searched around her aunt’s stuff until she found what she was looking for.

Aunt Helen tried to sell the house after her father disappeared, but oddly no one wanted it. One of the items in her stuff was the key to the house that is now on Ellie’s keyring.

She steels herself before putting the key in and turning the lock. If the decrepit state of the yard almost gets to her, then Ellie needs to prepare herself.

A click resounds. The door’s unlocked.

Heart thumping in her chest, Ellie takes another deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside.


	3. Chance Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finally entering her childhood home and seeing how it's in disarray, Ellie decides a trip to the supermarket is in order. There she runs into a familiar face.

Dust particles float through the air and cover every surface of the home. She's struck by how familiar it is, how the house hasn’t changed since she was gone. Ellie’s hand drops from the door handle and hits her side. She can’t help but stare, soaking in every detail of the home she once left as a child.

She spares a glance to the only furniture in the entryway, a white hallway table. Although she feels like something is missing, she decides to ignore the nagging at her brain to explore the house further.

Ellie walks further into the house, past the door to her father’s study and the stairs leading to the second floor. The wooden floor creaks underneath her steps as she does so. She spots a few places on the wall where the floral wallpaper is peeling off.

She reaches the archway to the living room. That’s when the plaid couch comes into view, and Ellie stops dead in her tracks. Flashes of her nightmare go through her head. And for a moment Ellie can smell her brothers’ blood in the air and gags.

But the moment is gone, and she is back in the present. Still, she waits for the familiar sounds of deep breathing and heavy footsteps. But all she can hear is her own breathing and the refrigerator running in the kitchen. Ellie sighs in relief. But if she takes slower steps into the room - her shoes sinking into the gray shag carpet - well then nobody is here to judge her.

There’s no dead bodies of her lost loved ones in the middle of the room, thank god. She glances to the entryway of the kitchen, nobody’s there. Of course nobody’s there, Ellie needs to stop being so paranoid over a simple nightmare. No one is out there to get her.

Her eyes scan the room, memories flooding her as she does so. The dial tv that she and her brothers would race down the stairs on Saturday mornings to watch cartoons on. The plaid couch she would sit on to play with her dolls. And there’s the coffee table. She wonders if there’s still some stains on it when they would eat dinner on it to watch movies with their parents.

And yet, she still feels like something’s wrong with the room. Her eyes search, wondering what’s missing. They land on the blank wall above the couch, and that’s when it clicks.

That wall is not supposed to be blank. It used to hold a picture frame. A sweet photograph of Johnny playing with the bubbles that Ellie was blowing. There’s no reason for anyone to have taken the photo down.

She knows her aunt came here when she was fifteen to try and sell the house. But Ellie doubts she would take down a picture frame.

So all that leaves is her father to take it down… but why would he? …And if he took that picture down....

She rushes out of the room and back to the entryway where the stairs are. She remembers, so long ago, the collage of photos hanging above the stairs that her mother spent a whole day on to make perfect.

Ellie reaches the entryway room, narrowly avoiding a bad run in with the table as she does so. Her eyes look to the stairs, and what she finds confirms her worries.

The walls are barren. She can see where they would be hanging. Spaces where there’s less dust than the rest of the wall and nails still sticking out, hammered in from so long ago.

Still in shock, Ellie turns to the table, now realizing why it was nagging her earlier. There used to be two pictures on the now clear surface. Both photos were of Michael and Elizabeth on their first day of elementary school. There was gonna be a photo of Johnny, but he went missing that very year he was going to start.

With the wall above the stairs and now the table, it’s become clear to her. Her father didn’t stop at the one photo in the living room, he took down all the pictures in the house.

\-----------

After five minutes of searching, Ellie finally finds a parking spot and gets out from the car. Yet her mind is still reeling from the discovery at the home.

She searched almost the whole house. And yet she couldn't find the photographs anywhere. Ellie knows her father would not destroy or throw them away… hopefully. There were a few rooms left unchecked. Ones that she either couldn’t enter, or wouldn’t. So she still has hope.

After giving up on the search, she decided to check out the kitchen and assess how bad the food situation is.

It was terrible, to say the least. There was no food in the fridge or pantry, and that’s not even bringing up the abysmal tableware selection. One butter knife and a plastic cup caked in dust.

Entering the supermarket she’s hit by a wave of much wanted cool air. The sounds of old trolleys screeching on the tiled floor and people talking fill her ears. And Ellie's thrown back to being a child again and helping her family with groceries.

She grabs a trolley and begins to grab what she needs. Making sure to not overdo it with the food. The kitchen is large, but the home is empty of everyone but her. She also needs to grab some cleaning supplies and some dinnerware.

After ten minutes of shopping, she enters the cleaning aisle. Trying to compare two brands of all purpose bleach spray. Ellie notices two women gossiping out of the corner of her eye. They appear to be middle aged; Both looking like they got off of a set for an infomercial.

They’re whispering to each other and pointing right at her. Her heart starts to race, and wonders if she’s doing something. She puts the cheaper spray in her trolley, still keeping them in her sight. She cannot believe how rude they are, these women aren’t even being covert in their gossip!

She was about to walk over to them, until Ellie realizes that they’re not looking at her. Their eyes seem to be on something - or someone - else. She follows their gaze to the unfortunate person.

The person turns out to be a young woman around her age. With long straight brown hair that covers her face from Ellie’s angle. She has on a black tank top under a dark green flannel shirt, ripped jeans tucked into black combat boots. She’s wearing a messenger bag that looks as if it’s been used for years and run over by a truck. It’s green color reminds her of the moss in the forest around her childhood home.

The woman doesn’t appear to notice or care about the gossiping ladies. Her eyes solely fixed on the paper towels that she’s selected. She turns to place her choice in the trolley, and that’s when Ellie finally gets a look at her face. Even from eight feet away she can see the freckles splashed across her nose like a bridge.

The woman’s eyes finally meet her’s. And everything stops. The two ladies don’t matter anymore as she finally remembers her. A young girl. Someone who used to come over to their house a lot to spend time with Michael. Wearing a new jumper everyday and her hair always so ratty from riding a bike.

“Charlie?” Ellie says, her voice coming out more shaky than she wanted. The wom- no, Charlie, is just standing there. Her eyes are wide, no doubt as shocked as Ellie is, probably even more actually. She didn’t expect to find any familiar faces in Hurricane, much less her older brother’s childhood friend.

“Lizzy?” Charlie says. The old nickname from her brothers stabs her heart. She hasn’t been called that since she moved to England, Aunt Helen refused to call her a ‘childish’ nickname.

Charlie rushes around her own trolley and stands before her. She reaches her hand out as if to grab her shoulder, but stops shy of doing such a thing.

“Please tell me you are Lizzy,” Charlie scratches behind her neck, “like I’m not jumping on some strange look alike in the store due to losing my mind, right?” She says. The question was so absurd that Ellie couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, Charlie, I’m Lizzy, I go by Ellie now though,” She says. And before she can react Charlie wraps her arms around her in what takes Ellie only a second to realize is a hug. She returns it of course. As she does so she peeks over to the women only to see their backs as they stomp away.

But they leave her mind as Charlie pulls away, hands still on her shoulders as she ends the hug. Charlie looks her up and down. And a small smile creeps onto her face.

“Wow, look at you. I see you grew from pink to red,” Charlie says.

“Heh, yeah… I’ve been avoiding my old room-” Ellie crosses her arms, eyes now averting from her "-I remember it completely covered in pink.”

Charlie snaps her finger, “Wait, you were the one I saw drive up to the house earlier?” She exclaims, and Ellie realizes what happened at the Emily house.

“So... I’m guessing it was you messing with the blinds and not some ghost, huh?” She says. Charlie chuckles from the words, smirking as she too crosses her arms.

“Nah, you caught me, I’m a ghost hunting my childhood home,” She says, then the smirk leaves her lips for a more somber expression, “No but seriously, I haven’t seen anyone go up to that house since I was thirteen, it was… weird when I heard a car drive by.”

“That makes sense. Sorry if I worried you,” She says. But Charlie waves her off, her smile back.

“Hey, it’s fine. Was just curious is all.” Her eyes travel to Ellie’s trolley, the cleaning supplies clueing her in. “Guessing since that house has been empty it’s in need of cleaning. If you don’t mind I’ll come by later and help out.”

“Oh you don’t have to!”

“No, but I want to, I haven’t been in that house for years. Plus there are a couple things I need to tell you in private.” Charlie says. She then reaches forward and pulls Ellie in for a hug again. With her head resting on her shoulder, Charlie then turns her head. Ellie can’t help but shiver at the warm air blown on her ear. “Don’t tell anyone here your last name. This town has latched onto some beliefs about your family.”

The words send a spike of fear down Ellie’s back. She wants to deny it, but the interaction she had at the gas station gives credit to her claim. She finishes the hug and then pats her on the shoulder. Before Ellie can make sense of the warning, Charlie is already walking away down the aisle.

“Oh, by the way,” she calls over her shoulder, “I’ll bring some wine coolers for later.”

And then Charlie disappears around the corner. Leaving Ellie with nothing but questions, and the crushing feeling that she is not welcome here.


	4. Cleaning the Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie does indeed come over with wine coolers, and the both of them get to work.

Ellie was an hour in cleaning when Charlie finally arrived, driving in a green pickup truck. She steps out onto the porch  just as she hops out the front seat, a case of six wine coolers in hand. The chirping of the cicadas drowning all other sounds in the air. Although she knows that soon the sound crickets will replace the sound as the sun goes down.

Charlie walks right through the overgrown grass, not hesitating at the least at the prospect of bugs or other nasty critters hidden in the grass . Ellie shudders at the thought, it’s one of the reasons why she uses the stone path instead.

“Hope you didn’t get started yet,” She says, stepping onto the porch. Ellie waves for her to follow inside. She hopes that she doesn’t bring up how the smell of dust clings to the air.

“I did, but it was only simple stuff like dusting and sweeping,” She says, leading Charlie through the house. Almost all the windows inside the house are open to air out the musty scent permeating the house. Charlie looks around the interior, her brows furrow as she bites her lips.

“Wow... it’s so empty.” She says. She watches as Charlie’s eyes land on the wall above the staircase, watches as her eyes widen and her mouth drops. Her head whips to Ellie’s, who can’t meet her in the eyes.

“It’s like that in the whole house,” She says, she clutches her dress in her hands. Charlie still stares at her, but then her eyes wander to the blank wall.

“Do you know who did it?” She says, her question startling Ellie.

“No-I mean yes. I mean…  I believe it was my father. He was the only one in the house.” Ellie says. 

Charlie hums in response, she doesn’t say anything else. Sweeping further into the house. Ellie trails after her, now feeling like she’s the guest in the house. Both of them walk to the living room, and Charlie looks around it, her gaze landing on the tv. 

She bounces the wine coolers against her thigh, a small smile gracing her lips. “We used to watch the stupidest movies on that tv.” She says. 

“What?”

“Me and Michael. Every Friday night we would go over to each other's house, depending on the week. When it was his turn my mom used to help us pick out the stupidest movie from the video store before dropping us off.” Charlie chuckles at the fond memories.

“We would watch it at night. I still remember your mom telling us to be quiet so you and Johnny could sleep.” She says, her eyes glazed over, no doubt looking back at her own childhood.

“I… don’t remember that,” Ellie says.

At her confession, Charlie jumps, blinking her eyes  rapidly . “Sorry, kinda got lost in thought.” She says. Ellie shakes her head.

“Don’t be, I’ve been remembering things left and right here. It sounds lovely.” She says. Charlie’s smile dims, no longer a sparkle in her eyes.

“Yeah… it was.” She says. There are words left unsaid in the air, but Ellie tries not to push. The last thing she needs to do is piss off the one link to her past she has. “Anyways, let me put the wine coolers in the fridge, and then we can  truly get started.”

“Right,” Ellie says. 

Charlie does so, then they begin. Minutes turned into hours of cleaning every room downstairs. Well, every room except her father’s study. She wasn’t allowed in that room when her family was still here. Even though nobody is around to enforce the rule, she still feels too nervous to break it.

Charlie is a lifesaver all around.  What Ellie was dreading with her minimal sleep and benign tasks turned into an interesting experience .  Her talks about the crazy things she would do with her eldest brother helped bring something more to Ellie’s mind . A side of him she never got to experience being his little sister. 

“So you two would bike out to the middle of the woods… for a hole?”

“It was a sinkhole! But yes, it was our hangout spot. It’s ruined now though, some idiot dumped a big freezer in that hole.” Charlie says, her teeth grinding at the end. It must be a pretty special hole then.

It’s as they start to clean the dining room (Ellie refuses to start upstairs, stating that she’ll sleep on the couch) that something comes up . To be fair, with the things that happened in her past - and Charlie’s - something was bound to happen.

Ellie’s wiping down the dining table, a little mesmerized watching the streaks of dust clear away to a clean and shiny table underneath . She hears a snort come from Charlie. A glance out of the corner of her eye sees her wiping down a shelf with a bunch of her mother’s commemorative plates.

Even as a child, Ellie thought they were hideous with their designs. But now seeing them caked in dust brought in even more disgust from her. Charlie picks up one of the plates, a mother’s day plate with an ugly child on it with a message she is too far away to read.  Thankfully Charlie is there.

“‘A mother’s job is never done’, god this is so cliché.” She says. With a rag in hand, she wipes the dust off the plate. She agrees. Ellie has heard that message and other variants a lot growing up. Even when her aunt tried her hardest to hide them from her. “Hey, speaking of mothers, how did you convince yours to let you come back here?” Charlie says, turning to spare a questioning glance to her.

Elie knows Charlie doesn’t know; that the idea of her mother doing what she did is absurd. That doesn’t help the feeling like she's  been bashed in the stomach. She goes back to wiping down the table, even though it is spotless at this point.

“It’s easy to do so when your mother had left you when you were a child.” She says.  Even with her back to her, the gasp that comes from Charlie is enough to help her mind come up with the expression on her face . Wide eyes and mouth hanging open.

“Oh-oh shit, I am so sorry Elizabeth, I-I didn’t-”

“No don’t worry, I was sad for a few days.”  The memories of what happened, the months after her mother walked out that front door and out of her life, surface .  The countless nights Ellie woke up from nightmares calling out for her mother only to have Aunt Helen come into her room .  The times she refused to eat anything because every time she tasted something, it would remind her that she would never get her mother’s cooking again . And the crying. Oh hell, the crying.  Ellie’s pretty sure the reason she hasn’t broken down yet is because she used up all her tears the months after her mother left . “But I’m fine now.” She says.

She doesn’t believe her, it doesn’t take an artist to see the obvious doubt on Charlie’s face. But  thankfully for her, she doesn’t push it. It could be because she is hiding stuff from Ellie, but she isn’t going to ignore her luck.

She stops wiping down the table, it’s pointless at this point anyways. She stretches with her arms high in the air. A low groan escapes her lips as she does so. She turns to Charlie, who hasn’t moved on from that cursed mother’s day plate. That plate cleaned off while the others are still dirty gives a hellish ironic spotlight. Ellie wants out of that room, and away from that damn plate.

“You know, we got almost the entire downstairs clean. Why don’t we stop for today? I picked up some pizza from the grocer’s. Why don’t I heat that up, and then we can watch some flicks while getting pissed off of those coolers you brought?” Ellie says.

Charlie wants to say something. She can tell from the way her lips open and close. In the end, she only shrugs her shoulders though, a quirk of her lips bringing an easy and fake smile on her face.

“That sounds awesome,” Charlie says. Ellie leaves the room to head to the kitchen, she can hear her heading to the living room behind her. As she takes the frozen pizza out from the freezer, her mind is abuzz with questions. She didn’t think she would have so many once she got here, but it seems like so many things happened while she was gone. 

Things that Charlie doesn’t want her to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shout out to two amazing artists over on tumblr for giving me such an amazing au for FNAF. And that would be [Jaes](https://jaes-fnaftrash.tumblr.com/aus/swap) and [Scatter](https://official-michael-afton.tumblr.com/tagged/swap-au)! These two are amazing and deserve way more love and appreciation. 
> 
> And if you guys wanna also give me some love on my own Tumblr blog, I'm [over here](https://rglozwriter.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this!


End file.
